On A Night Like This
by smc-27
Summary: In front of her was a face she'd recognize anywhere. Over the past 8 years, she'd been known to see 'him' every now and again in strangers on the street. This was different. This face had looked back at her. LP Oneshot.


**A/N**: Slightly AU- Everything up to and including Season 4 happened, except Peyton didn't go to L.A., she went to New York. The title is a song by Dave Barnes.

Let me know what you think!

**--**

She'd left Tree Hill at 18 for New York, accepting a position as a junior marketing coordinator at a major music label, and had flown through the ranks. She'd climbed the ladder and now, at 26, she was the youngest President of Marketing the label had ever had. She worked hard, she did her job to the best of her abilities, and she loved what she did.

Peyton had never loved L.A. She'd been there often over the last 8 years, but she never felt as connected to the city as many of her colleagues. And yet here she was, on one of about a dozen business trips to the city she would make this year, taking meetings with her label's L.A. office president. She was sure she knew more than him. He was everything that outsiders thought of the industry - cocky and pompous and treated everyone around him like garbage until they either caved or proved themselves to him. Peyton had done the latter. During her first meeting with him, in front of half his senior staff, she'd made it perfectly clear that she wasn't about to take his attitude, and that if he wasn't there to listen to what she had to say, he was free to leave the meeting she was called in to conduct.

It was finally Friday and she was leaving for New York the following night after being on the west coast all week. She'd just gotten back to her hotel after yet another long day of dealing with interns. She'd tried to be accommodating, just like she always did. She wanted to help them learn, and help them discover that their passion for music could translate into a passion for their work as well. Today, however, had been a tough one. She didn't have the patience she normally would, and she had been slightly harsher than usual. That still, however, was less harsh than they were used to, or so they told her.

She was just walking up the steps to enter her hotel's lobby when her phone rang in her bag, and she rummaged through to answer it.

"This is Peyton...yes, Mitch, I know it's supposed to be ready to print in less than two weeks, but if the cover didn't look like a children's drawing instead of a professional photo, then we'd be closer to our deadline...No. There is always at least a 5 day cushion with the printer...OK, well, email me the new proofs and I'll take a look at them as soon as they come through...Alright, I'll email you back in a little bit. Thanks, Mitch."

She'd made her way to the elevator and pressed the call button, and waited for the first available of the six lifts to arrive. She finally heard two successive 'dings' indicating she'd be in her room in a matter of minutes. Two doors slid open at the same time, and she walked directly into one, as passengers offloaded on the car next to the one she'd chosen.

She didn't know what made her do it, but she took her eyes off the floor and looked straight ahead. In front of her was a face she'd recognize anywhere.

The doors slid closed and she was stuck in a trance. Could it be? She'd been known to see 'him' every now and again in strangers on the street and be forced to do a double take. But this was different. This was a mutual recognition. This face had looked back at her.

"Miss?" a gentleman asked, turning to get her attention. "Floor?"

"Sor..sorry," she stuttered. "12, please."

She walked into her room and sat on the bed, still unable to believe what her eyes had seen only minutes before. After a few moments, she did what she'd been wanting to do all day. She unzipped the high heeled boots she'd stupidly put on that morning, and she turned to the mini bar, knowing there was a block of Belgian chocolate waiting for her. This is what she needed. She stripped off the vest she'd worn over her white tank top, and threw it into her open suitcase.

There was a knock at the door and she realized she'd forgotten to place the _'Do Not Disturb'_ sign on her doorknob. She assumed it was housekeeping, so she made her way to the door in her bare feet while unwrapping the chocolate she so desperately needed.

His eyes were still etched in her mind. Eyes she'd never forget.

She didn't expect them to be on the other side of the door.

--

Neither of them said anything for what seemed like forever. He just stared into those green eyes of hers he'd studied as a teenager, and she looked at him blankly.

She was still as beautiful as he'd always thought she was. Her hair was much longer than it had been when he knew her, and the curl was all but gone. It was more brown than blonde now, but it suited her. She looked like a woman - one that he'd easily notice in a crowd, no less.

"Hi," he managed. One syllable was all he could mutter.

"Hi," she echoed. She hadn't seen him in 8 years, and the shock of seeing him here now was taking over her mind. "Sorry. Come in," she said, shock still evident in her tone.

"You sure?" he said with a grin. The grin that always made her heart sink.

She moved to the side to allow him to walk through the doorway, and she snapped out of her daze. Suddenly, she was aware that she was only in jeans, a white tank top, and a black bra. She was sure she looked unkempt and unprofessional.

"Peyton, you look amazing," he said sincerely, after she'd shut the door behind them. Any fears she had about her appearance were washed away with that one simple comment.

"Thanks," she said, hoping the burning sensation she could feel in her cheeks would not be visible, though she knew otherwise. "So do you."

It was no lie. The years had been kind to him. His frame had changed, and he was a man. She wasn't sure why, but that surprised her. He wore jeans and a steel grey button down. Simple, but flattering to every part of him. His hair was shorter than the last time she'd seen him, and he was sporting a stubble on his face that she wouldn't deny was incredibly sexy. She tried to push that thought aside. He no doubt had a girlfriend.

"What are you doing here?" she asked suddenly. It came out more curt than she had wanted it to.

"I um...I couldn't believe my eyes, so I asked at the desk what room you were in. I swear I thought I was going crazy," he admitted with a smile. "I'm in L.A. on business."

"Me too," she said. Why were words so hard to come by? How could she not fall back into the easy rhythm she had with him? She set the chocolate that she now wanted even more onto the desk next to her laptop and iPhone.

They stood looking at each other for another minute. She watched the clock next to the bed change from 6:17 to 6:18, and decided that was too long for them to go without any sort of communication. She did the thing she'd thought about for the last 60 seconds, and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him.

It took him a moment to reciprocate, but it was more out of surprise than it was a real hesitation. It felt so good to have her in his arms again. Her body against his made a strange sense of comfort wash over him. She smelled like coconut and vanilla, like she always had, and he inwardly wondered how it was possible that, even after 8 years, she still carried the same scent.

"I missed you," she whispered into the crook of his neck.

"I missed you, too," he admitted. "More than you know."

She did not let him go, and truthfully, he didn't want her to. He wanted to hold onto her, and to that comfort, for as long as she'd allow.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly after a minute, pulling back from him.

"Don't be," he said with a smile, keeping his hands on her hips. "You know how much I love having my arms around you."

She thought she would scream right then and there. He still had a power over her, no matter how much she tried to push him out of her mind, he always managed to come to the forefront. And now he was standing in front of her, smiling, and telling her he missed her.

"I'm just...in shock right now," she said quietly, walking away from him and sitting on the end of the bed.

He took a place in the chair across from her and just looked at her, marveling at how gorgeous she was - how much more gorgeous she was than in the dreams he'd occasionally have about her.

"What are the odds that we'd be in L.A. at the same time, staying at the same hotel?" she asked with a slight laugh.

"I don't know, but I'm glad," he said. "Do you have plans? Or do you want to have dinner with me?"

She felt her heart palpitate in her chest. Only he had ever given her that sensation before. She felt the blush creeping to her cheeks again. And he'd only asked her to dinner.

"Um...yeah. I'm sure a proper dinner is better than that block of chocolate I was about to eat," she joked. "You mind if I change real quick?"

"Why?" he asked with a grin and his eyes moved over her. "You look really...sexy."

She tilted her head at him.

"Let's go," he said, extending his hand for her to take. Her skin touched his and he felt a shock run through his body. Only she had that effect on him. No other woman could make him react the way she could. He tried to stop himself from thinking that way about her. She could have a boyfriend. She could be married. He inconspicuously checked her left hand and smiled to himself when he noticed there was no ring there. _'What is wrong with you,'_ he asked himself. He'd only been with her ten minutes, and was already checking her relationship status. But Lord, he was a fool for that woman.

She reached for her purse and phone, but decided to leave the latter in her room. Nothing was as important for the next few hours as being with him. She dropped his hand to open the door, and he wanted desperately to have it back.

"Come on," she said, leading him down the hallway. "I know a great place not too far from here."

--

They walked in relative silence as the city buzzed around them. Neither knew the right things to say. She had so many questions for him, and he for her, but neither knew where to start. They'd tried to keep in touch, but over the years, weekly contact had become monthly. Monthly became every six months, and the last two years, they hadn't spoken at all.

They got to the restaurant, and the host greeted them warmly.

"Your usual table, Mr. Scott?" he asked.

She turned to look at him with a confused smile.

"Please," he replied, nodding toward the mad at the podium. "Thank you." He turned to meet her gaze. "This is the only place I eat when I'm in L.A." he confessed with a shrug._ 'And,' _he thought, _'you picked it.'_ Out of all the restaurants, she'd chosen this one.

He motioned for her to walk ahead of him, and he found himself taking in her body as her hips swayed in front of him. He couldn't help himself from acting like a teenaged boy around her.

"OK, this is a little weird, right?" she asked once they were seated and had ordered a bottle of wine.

"It's a little weird," he agreed. "But it's so good to see you."

"It's really good to see you, too," she echoed. "So what are you doing in L.A.?"

"The new book is coming out and I just changed publishers, so I had to come out here and shake hands before the release," he said, making the trip sound tedious.

"This is your fourth book! You must be so excited," she said, smiling.

"Nothing beats the first," he said with a sheepish grin. He hadn't realized what he'd said until he'd said it. His first book was still the dearest to him, mostly because of the content it held.

She smiled at his admittance. "I'm proud of you, Luke. You really did it."

"Me? Look at you! Vice President of Marketing, is it?" he asked.

"President, actually," she said modestly.

"Well, sorry. That's pretty damn impressive, Peyton," he gushed.

"God, I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages. I talk to Brooke all the time, and Haley and Nathan every once in a while," she said.

"Yeah, Haley always tells me when you two talk. They're doing so great. You have to see Ella," he beamed, reaching for his wallet to pull out a photo of the 7 month old. "Finally another Scott girl to keep Lily company."

She took the photo and held it in her hands for longer than she expected. Jamie might look like Lucas, but this little girl was all Nathan. She had dark hair and blue eyes, just like her daddy. She was beautiful, and suddenly Peyton felt an ache in her heart for all she was missing in her home town.

"She's adorable," she said quietly.

"Yeah, she's got her daddy wrapped around her finger, too. You should see him," he laughed.

"I bet. Nathan's always been a big softie, though," she said, remembering the movie night the four of them had had during their senior year, and Nathan tearing up during _I Am Sam_.

The two shared a comfortable silence before he spoke again. "So tell me about your life, Peyton."

"Well, you know about work, obviously," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I might have Googled you," he said embarrassedly.

"Wow, that's not creepy at all," she teased. "Let's see...Well, I live in Manhattan, which I love or hate, depending on what day you ask me."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," she admitted somberly. "I miss Tree Hill." Her eyes met his and she noted the smile on his face. "I've never admitted that to anyone."

"Well, Tree Hill misses you, too," he said softly, reaching for his wine glass, and never breaking her gaze. He was definitely flirting.

"I just...I love what I do But I still long for that sense of home, you know? Like I don't feel comfortable in New York. My apartment is just a place I keep my things, but it's not my home." She realized what she'd just said and realized how big a confession it was. "Sorry. Kind of heavy conversation."

"Not at all," he said with a smile. "What else, though? There has to be more to your life than just work?" He knew it was a thinly veiled way of asking if she was single, but he didn't care.

"Nope, I'm pretty much all work, all the time. When Brooke comes into town we always get together, and I have a good group of friends," she explained. What she wanted to say was that she was single and hadn't even been in a serious relationship since they parted ways after high school. "What about you?"

"Still coaching the Ravens, which is great because it gives me time to write. And I really love helping these kids like Whitey helped us, you know?" She nodded her understanding. "Mom sold the house to me, since she and Lily moved in with Andy," he said.

"You bought your house?" she asked. "That must feel great."

"You don't own?" he inquired with his brow furrowed.

"No. I mean, I could, but I don't want to buy in the city," she explained.

"Right. The love/hate thing," he chuckled.

"Something like that," she said.

The truth is, she'd been miserable in the city lately, and seriously considering moving back to Tree Hill and starting her own label. She had the capital since her salary was more money than she knew what to do with. She had contacts and the know how to do it, she was just waiting for a sign. She wondered if this was it.

"So instead of beating around the bush like you just did, I'm just going to come right out and ask if you're seeing anyone," she said, coyly taking a sip of her wine.

"You caught me," he said, putting up his hands in defeat. "No, I'm not. I haven't really...I mean...since you, there really hasn't been anyone special."

"Yeah," she said simply. It was all he needed to hear for a smile to grace his lips. She was still on his mind. He still thought about her often, wondering how she was and if she was happy.

Their food arrived and they spent the rest of their dinner talking about life in general and reminiscing and trading stories of major events that had taken place since they last spoke. They fell back into the rapport they'd built during their last two years of high school - harmless teasing, jokes, confiding in one another.

"I still can't believe we're sitting here," he said, looking at her eagerly.

The two and a half glasses of wine she'd had, had given her a warm, buzzy feeling, though she was sure his company would have had the same effect even if she hadn't drank a drop. She studied his face for a moment and he smiled in return.

"What happened to us, Peyt?" he asked softly.

She sighed at the question not because she didn't want to answer it, but because all the reasons they'd broken up now seemed to pale in comparison to the connection that still existed between them.

"Time and space. Life," she said softly.

When he went away to school and she went to New York, they were happy and in love and vowed to make it work. New York wasn't that far away in the grand scheme of things, and they managed to see each other every few months. But eventually his coaching schedule and studies got in the way of their meetings, and her job started taking her all over the country, and they just drifted apart. They mutually agreed that it wasn't working any more, and though it killed him to let her go, he knew he had to in order for her to follow her passion. She hadn't wanted them to break up either, but in her heart she knew that it was better to end their relationship amicably than for them to end up resenting each other. It was the hardest thing either of them had done.

The waiter brought their cheque and Lucas reached for it before Peyton could.

"Lucas," she attempted to protest.

"No way," he said with a smile. "I got it."

"Well then at least let me get dessert," she insisted.

"OK," he said with a laugh. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Overpriced chocolate in my hotel room?" she offered quietly. She didn't know why she was nervous. She was a grown woman sitting with a man she once loved, and as the minutes passed, she was beginning to think she still did. She knew it was always going to be there, just like he'd said all those years ago. And yet she was nervous asking him back to her room, as though she was that 17 year old girl again, full of emotions and want.

"Sounds good," he said with a grin. Had she just asked what he thought she just asked? He didn't want to assume it meant anything other than what she'd said, but he was, after all, a man, and his mind couldn't help but wander.

They left the restaurant smiling and began walking the six blocks towards their hotel. He threw his arm around her shoulder, making the contact he'd been craving all evening, and he sighed happily when she wrapped her arm around his waist.

"This feels good," she said suddenly.

"Is that the wine talking?" he teased, earning him a playful swat to the chest. "It does feel good." He pressed a light kiss to her temple for reasons he couldn't say. Maybe it was habit, or some inexplicable universal magnetism. Or maybe he just wanted to.

She felt her heart expand in her chest when she felt his lips on her skin. She wanted nothing more than to stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and press her lips to his, but was stopped mid-thought when someone recognized Lucas. She pulled away from him and took a step back as he talked to the young man who was raving about the author's writing. He asked Lucas for an autograph, and while Lucas scribbled his signature in a half full notebook, the young man said that he'd fallen in love with the Peyton from_ An Unkindness of Ravens_, and that he wished he could meet a woman like that. Lucas chuckled and Peyton stifled a laugh and the young man went on his way, happy to have met his literary hero.

"So how much did you pay that kid?" she teased, and laughed at the redness in his cheeks.

"I swear, that never happens," he insisted as they continued walking.

When they arrived at the hotel, they waited in silence for the elevator, each of them nervous for what was about to happen, or not happen. The uncertainty was killing them both. They shared the elevator with an older couple, and Peyton could see her future pass before her eyes. She could see herself 40 years from now, still holding hands with the love of her life and smiling as he led her into a room, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. She could see children and grandchildren, and they all had blonde hair and blue eyes.

She watched as the older couple stepped out of the elevator. She let the door slide close before grabbing Lucas' hand and turning to face him, looking into his eyes. She placed her free hand on his stubbled cheek and leaned up to kiss him. They hadn't kissed in 8 years, but that kiss still felt the same. She'd kissed a lot of men in those 8 years, but nothing felt like this. Nothing felt like Lucas.

He was sure the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. He'd felt his blood warm under her touch and he knew that no matter where he went or who he kissed, no kiss would ever affect him the way hers did.

"Wow," he said quietly as they pulled apart, resting his forehead against hers.

"Yeah," she whispered, closing her eyes as if to etch the moment in her mind.

He intertwined his fingers with hers as the doors opened and they stepped out, silently walking hand in hand towards her room. He tried not to laugh as she fumbled with the key before opening the door. She walked through first, but before she could get too far, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him and spun her around so her back was against the door. He had one hand on her hip and the other against the door as he leaned down and kissed her passionately. She put her hands on his back and pulled him closer to her. His hand found the back of her head and he pulled her gently towards him and into the room.

He was peppering her neck with kisses and her breathing was ragged, but she managed to speak.

"Is this a bad idea?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He buried his hands fist-deep in her hair and pulled away to look into her eyes. There was a smile on his lips that he knew wasn't going to go away any time soon.

"Probably," he admitted, before pressing his lips lightly to hers. His left hand grazed the bare skin at the top of her jeans, sending a chill through her body. "Tell me to stop," he said quietly, searching her eyes for anything other than lust.

"I can't," she muttered before capturing his lips again. She felt him smile against her as they kissed.

In truth, nothing felt as good to her as knowing in that moment that he wanted this as badly as she did. They were two former lovers who'd somehow never let go, reconnecting and placing all their longing and want and need into this kiss - into this embrace - and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him with her. She needed him with her.

--

He lay awake for a while with her head resting on his chest, just thinking as she breathed. He thought about their time together and their time apart, and came to the realization that he was never happier than he was when he was with her. Sure, he was happy with his life. He had everything he could want. But he didn't have her. He didn't have anything that made him feel like she did. All the success and all the published books in the world would not take her place in his heart.

He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to the top of her head and smoothed her hair with his hand, and she stirred beneath his touch, her sleepy green eyes looking up at him as a smile broke on her face. She stretched and it was just about the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

"Hi," she said softly, kissing his chest as she threw her arm over his stomach.

"Hi," he echoed. "How'd you sleep?"

"Amazing. I thought this was a dream," she admitted.

"Dream about me often?" he teased.

She did, actually, dream about him often. Sometimes it was the memories of past events. Sometimes it was events they hadn't gotten to experience. Sometimes it was more than that. Sometimes it was everything. Sometimes it was just his face and those blue eyes that had always been able to see more in her than anyone else's.

When she didn't respond, he pulled her closer to him and breathed deeply. They lay for a few minutes like that, with her tracing her fingers lightly up and down his side and him unconsciously rubbing her arm,

"I fly out this afternoon," he admitted sadly.

She pulled back and he could see flashes of disappointment in her eyes, so he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers softly.

"I wish we could stay here all weekend," she said wistfully, placing her hand over his heart. "I leave tonight."

"Well," he said, leaning to look at the clock. "We still have a few hours."

"A few hours, huh? What do you think we should do?" she said playfully.

"Hmm...I have a few ideas," he said in a low voice, reaching to pull her on top of him. She smiled before kissing him again.

When they finally left her room after a long shower together, she followed him to his room so he could pack. She didn't remove her arm from his waist the entire way, and she flopped on his bed and watched as he folded his clothes and gathered his things, placing them carefully into his suitcase. She watched his fingers tug the zipper closed and heard him sigh.

"Have everything?" she questioned, staring at him as he stood with his back to her.

"Yeah," he said sadly and turned towards her. He knelt in front of her and placed his hands on her thighs.

"What?" she asked, confusion on her face.

"This was amazing," he confessed, his thumbs moving in circles over the fabric of her jeans.

"It was, Luke," she agreed quietly. "I'm gonna miss you."

Truth is, she already did.

He smiled at her admittance and leaned up to kiss her once again. They pulled away and he sighed as he noticed the time on the clock next to the bed.

"I have to go," he said softly, and he heard her exhale.

That sound just about broke his heart again. He could hear the sadness in her breath, and he hated to do this to her again. He knew why he had to, and he knew she'd argue if he said he'd stay. Something about Peyton had always tugged at his heart. She was his weakness.

"Here," he said, pulling a book from his shoulder bag. The title was _Belief_, and she ran her hands over his name on the cover. There was a photo of the River Court, dimly lit by moonlight. "It doesn't come out for a couple weeks." She went to open the cover, but his strong hand stopped her and she looked up at him. "Don't open it until I leave, OK?"

She nodded gently and threw her arms around him, pulling him into the space between her legs as she sat on the bed and he was on his knees in front of her.

"I'll keep in touch," he promised. She nodded again. "You aren't going to say anything?" he teased.

"I don't want to say goodbye," she said softly, and he pulled away from her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"So don't," he said with a smile. "I have to go," he repeated.

"OK," she mumbled. She stood again and kissed his lips with her hands on either side of his face. She worried it would be the last kiss the two ever shared.

He pulled away, smiling at her weakly, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before walking out the door, leaving her standing in his empty hotel room. She wouldn't cry. She forced herself not to. Their meeting was coincidental and didn't mean anything. It was what it was. It was nice and comfortable and safe, but it was nothing more than that.

She waited until she knew he'd be gone before making her way back to her room and collapsing on the bed, still clutching the crisp, never opened book in her hands. She sat back in the bed and opened the book to the first chapter. She made it almost halfway through the book before she had to catch her flight.

His prose was as beautiful as it had always been. Of course, she'd read his other novels, but there was something different about this one. It moved her. She teared at no less than five passages. There was something about this novel and the words he'd chosen to use. It was different than the others. This was more like his first - emotion evident in every paragraph.

She was on the red eye, but she stayed up all night reading with the dim overhead bulb spotlighting the pages in front of her. Just as the plane pulled up to the gate at the airport, she read the last paragraph of the book.

_The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning. And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning. There are many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again... And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart._

Tears were flowing and the flight attendant asked her if she was alright. Of course she was alright. She was moved. He'd touched her heart with the words he'd written, just like he had when she read his first novel. He wasn't there when she read it either, and it had the same effect.

She was closing the book to gather the rest of her things when she noticed the dedication page before the cover hid the pages. She re-opened the book and flipped to the page that held four simple typed words that made another tear fall down her smiling face.

_I still miss you..._

Taking in those words, she knew what she'd thought all along but didn't want to admit: he'd written this book about her.

It wasn't coincidental, their meeting. It was fate or destiny or some higher power. Some abstract connection. Some universal pull, proving to them that they should be together.

She made her way off the plane quickly and grabbed her backs from the carousel as fast as she could before running to the nearest ticket agent.

"Good morning ma'am, how may I help you," the agent asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"I need a ticket to Tree Hill, North Carolina," she said hurriedly.

"OK, the next flight leaves in a half hour but I only have a first class seat," the woman explained.

"I'll take it," she said, reaching for her wallet and handing over her credit card.

She ran towards the gate, not caring that people were looking at her like she was a madwoman. Her cheeks were tearstained and she hadn't slept in 24 hours, but she didn't care what anyone thought of her. She talked on her phone as she ran, calling her boss in New York and telling him she was resigning, effective immediately. He'd tried to argue with her, but she said she had to go and hung up the phone before he could continue his questioning.

The entire flight, she was restless. She couldn't stop tapping her foot impatiently or looking out the window for any sort of familiarity in the landscape beneath them.

The crazy thing was, none of it felt crazy to her. She didn't question what she was doing. She didn't stop to think twice about it. She'd never been more sure of anything in her entire life than she was about this. She'd had 8 years of success and money and good fortune, but nothing compared to how it felt to wake up in his arms or to see him smile at her, his blue eyes shining as he looked at her. Nothing would ever feel as good to her as he did.

Walking through the Tree Hill airport, she felt as though her heart was going to explode. She saw billboards and advertisements for stores and restaurants she recognized. It was barely 8 in the morning when she stepped outside to hail a cab. She breathed in the clean air of the small town and a smile crept to her face. This is what she'd missed.

Once she was in the cab and had closed the door behind her, she gave the driver the address of the only house she wanted to go to.

Driving through the town, she was flooded with memories and a warm feeling washed over her. This was where she was meant to be.

The car pulled up to the curb and the driver helped her take her bags from the trunk. She thanked him and made her way up the steps to the door she'd walked through countless times before.

She gently tapped on the glass and waited with bated breath for a response. Hearing the lock click, and seeing the shadow through the glass, she felt her breath catch in her throat. The door swung open and there he stood - the man she'd been with just 24 hours earlier. He was in a tee shirt and pajama pants, and his hair was matted from his pillow. He'd never looked better to her.

"Peyton," he said quietly, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming home."

His arms were around her so fast that she didn't know how to react. She kissed his neck and her hands found their way to his hair as they stood embracing in his doorway. he held her so tightly that he almost worried about hurting her, but he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I'm never leaving you again," she insisted, tears springing to her eyes again.

His lips found hers and she realized what she wished she'd realized years earlier.

This was home. He was home. And there was nowhere else in the world she belonged.


End file.
